by Diane Allen
It looked as though she was going to have to pacify the screaming baby, because as usual Nancy was oblivious to the child’s needs. She seemed to be oblivious to everything since the baby’s birth. All she did was sit in front of the dressing-table mirror, staring at her reflection as she combed her hair. When she could be bothered to come downstairs, she’d sit gazing out of the living-room window. Although a month had passed since Alice had learned of Will’s death, she still hadn’t got round to telling Nancy. Given her current state of mind, it was too risky. For the time being, she was better off living in her own world and not knowing the truth. Oh, that dashed baby and her screams! There was nothing else for it – she’d have to go and get her.
‘Now then, you awkward little devil, what’re you screeching for?’ She lifted the angry, red-faced bundle of noise from her cot. ‘You’ve come to test us all round, haven’t you, Baby Alice? I see – or should I say, I smell? – that we need our nappy changing. Where’s your mother at? I’m sure she could do this – let’s find her.’
The baby continued to scream as Alice carried her downstairs. A cold blast of air greeted them as they entered the living room. Nancy was sitting in her usual place, with the top sash window wide open and the wind blowing the curtains wildly about as she stared unseeing at the outside world.
‘What are you up to? Shut that window. It’s the end of November, not the middle of the summer! Here, take the baby while I close it.’ Alice passed the baby to Nancy, making sure she was wrapped up warm in the cold of the living room. She slammed and fastened the window. ‘What’s the point of wasting money on coal for the fire if you’re going to have all the windows open? Anybody would think we’d money to burn. I had to go scavenge the bit of coal we have off the railway batters as it is. Give me Alice back – she needs her nappy changing. Do you want to watch again? Then perhaps you can do it next time.’
Alice looked at Nancy as she took the baby from her, the little mite still screaming and yelling for attention. There was no response; Nancy acted as if she hadn’t heard.
‘Go and put some more clothes on, Nancy. You must be freezing, sitting in that draught with that thin dress on.’ Alice lifted the baby over her shoulder and patted the screaming child on her back, hoping that she would stop screaming just long enough for her to get Nancy to put more clothes on.
‘Did you not hear him?’ said Nancy, as if in a trance. ‘Did you not hear him shouting my name? I heard it on the wind. I’ve seen him walking up the path on a moonlit night as clear as day.’
‘Who? What are you talking about? It’s just the wind. It’s blowing a gale.’ Alice rocked the baby and patted her as she watched Nancy with her wild eyes.
‘I’m not telling you! I’m not sharing with you. He’s always been closer to you than me! Well, not this time; this time he’s mine.’ Nancy laughed a strange laugh and rose from the chair. She seemed to float past Alice, her silk dress swishing softly as she left the room.
‘Since she had you, little woman, your mother’s been getting worse, not better. I swear some days she acts as if she doesn’t know you exist.’
Alice took the baby into the warm kitchen and removed her full nappy, replacing it with a clean one from off the airing rack. While the baby lay on the table kicking her legs, she filled a bottle with warm, creamy Jersey milk. Sitting on Alice’s knee in front of the kitchen fire, the angry little body relaxed and suckled contentedly. ‘You don’t like being ignored by your mother, do you? That’s why we have these tantrums. I’d be the same if I was in your shoes. I was lucky: I had a perfect mother. She was my best friend, my guardian and a wonderful mother, and I didn’t even have the manners to say goodbye to her as she lay dying. How I regret that. No matter what your mother’s like, she’s still your mother.’
She stroked the little girl’s rosy cheeks until she fell asleep. Alice gazed at her, thinking of the baby she’d lost, her mother and father dying, and what her brother must have gone through on the battlefield. Now he lay buried in a foreign land. Life had dealt her some hard blows in the last two years, but each time she had managed to bounce back. And she’d go on bouncing back. Somehow she would sort out the money problem. Gerald would surely have made some provision for the baby his sister was carrying before he went to war. She would book an appointment with the solicitor in Kendal, see what he had to say. Once she told him what had happened, Jack would probably offer to take her. She’d mention it to him when he next called by.
‘Don’t you worry about a thing, Miss Alice. They’ll both be all right with us. I’m fair looking forward to having this little mite for a day.’ Hilda Dowbiggin was cuddling the baby so tight it was a wonder she could breathe. ‘And Miss Nancy will enjoy the change, so don’t you worry, we’ll be just fine.’
Alice looked over her shoulder at the plump housekeeper waving them off from the steps of the manor.
‘I hope they know what they’re in for with Nancy. Instead of getting better she’s been getting worse since the birth of the baby.’ Alice shuffled her clothes and made herself more comfortable next to Jack.
‘Aye, she’s in a bit of a state. I can see why you’ve not told her about Will yet. That would push her right over the edge. It’s taken me a week or two to realize that I’ll never see him again. I keep going over and over our last night in the Moon. If I’d known the silly bugger was serious about wanting to shoot the Huns, I’d have played hell with him. I thought it was all talk.’ Jack flicked the reins and the horses broke into a canter along the flat road under Helmside and on towards Kendal.
‘I miss him so much, Jack. He was the only one I had left. If it hadn’t have been for Baby Alice being born on the day the news came, I think I would have probably fallen to pieces myself.’ Alice smiled at Jack. She’d come to appreciate his company more and more, regarding him as her closest friend.
‘I know, lass. I miss him too. I’ve no one to have a pint with or go shooting with now. He may have been an awkward bugger, but he isn’t half missed.’ He squeezed Alice’s hand with his free hand and gazed longingly at her. ‘Do you mind if we pull in for a minute or two when we get to the Black Horse under Killington Fell? I’d like to give these two a bit of a break before climbing the fell road.’ He nodded at his team of horses.
‘No, that’ll be fine. I haven’t set a time with the solicitor. I only hope he can see me today, else it’ll be a waste of our time.’
‘No, Alice, I don’t call it a waste of my time. We’re back talking. Just like I miss Will, I’ve missed you all this time. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you. I’ve never let on until now, but I heard you that day talking to the old horse in the stable.’ Jack couldn’t bring himself to look Alice in the eye while he confessed. ‘I wish to God that I hadn’t overheard – it broke my heart to think what you’d done with that baby.’
‘But . . . but what you heard wasn’t anything to do with you. I’m so sorry I hurt you, but believe me, the baby couldn’t be born. Every time I saw it I’d have been reminded of the shame of that night . . .’ Alice’s eyes filled up with tears. Had he really thought she was capable of destroying a baby she could have loved? As it was, the father would never have loved it, and she doubted that she could bring herself to love a baby if she couldn’t even look at it without being reminded of the humiliation and hurt of being raped.
Jack reined in the horses. ‘What do you mean, “the shame of that night”? What happened, Alice? I thought you’d just been carrying on behind my back, like a bloody floozy. What happened? Tell me!’ His face was red with anger as he looked at her tearful face.
‘You don’t understand,’ Alice sobbed.
‘Too right I don’t bloody understand. I don’t understand how a grand farm lass can turn into a common hussy!’ Jack glared at her.
‘I was raped, Jack! I was raped by Uriah Woodhead while his wife went to see her mother. Now do you understand?’ Burying her head in her hands, Alice sobbed uncontrollably. She had been carrying her secret for so l
ong, it was a relief to get it off her chest.
Jack jumped down from the trap, steadied the horses and went to help her alight. ‘Oh, lass, I didn’t know. I’ll kill that bloody Uriah! He’s always had a wandering eye, the dirty old bastard. It’s the last bloody time he’ll get my trade. I’ll swing for him, so help me God. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’
Alice stammered: ‘Because I didn’t want anyone to know. I felt so dirty, so vulnerable – and who’d take my word against his?’ She sobbed into Jack’s jacket.
‘Everybody would have listened to you! He’d done it before, with a lass from Gawthrope. He’s a mucky old bugger when he’s had a drink or two, and Annie does nothing about it except cover for him. She daren’t do anything else.’ Jack held her tight and gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Like, I knew it wasn’t mine, seeing you wouldn’t let me get that far, but raped – I never dreamed that. The bastard!’ He hugged Alice tighter still. He still loved her; if anything, he loved her more than ever now he knew she’d been faithful to him.
Alice held him close, loving the feel of the tweed material of his jacket on her skin and the security of his arms around her. She had even missed the smell of the carbolic soap that his mother washed his shirts in. He was all she had left of her old world and she was so glad that he was there. She held him tight while the cold November winds blew around them, glad to have him back as a friend.
23
‘Now, Miss Bentham, how can I help you? Does this have something to do with your late brother?’
The solicitor’s offices were dark, the green velvet curtains blocking most of the faint November light, and the air was filled with the smell of musty papers and books. Alice was nervous; she had never dealt with someone in authority before.
‘Yes, that’s right, sir – my brother, Will Bentham, and his brother-in-law, Lord Gerald Frankland.’
‘I see. Well, carry on, Miss Bentham.’ He looked at her over the top of his spectacles, eyes burning through to the bone, judging her character.
‘My brother, as you know, was the beneficiary of his wife’s allowance, set up by her brother, Lord Frankland. Since my brother’s death we have not been receiving any payment because it has been withdrawn, yet I’m sure that Lord Frankland would want it to continue, especially as he is now uncle to a baby girl.’
‘I see . . . Please give my congratulations to, er . . . Nancy? Is that correct? I see your brother was put in charge of the allowance because Nancy is not able at the moment to look after her own affairs. Is that still the case?’ He flicked over page after page of documentation with his bony fingers.
‘Yes, that’s correct.’ Alice felt as though she was being cross-examined in court.
‘And am I also correct in thinking at this moment in time you are looking after her and the infant’s welfare?’ Once again he peered at Alice over the top of his spectacles.
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Would you give me a moment to read these notes? There may be something in here that will help with your request. I see that Lord Frankland does mention you in his instructions, so please bear with me for a moment, Miss Bentham. Unfortunately this war is making extra work and I’ve had no time to acquaint myself with these documents.’
He studied the folder while Alice surveyed the dreary office with its stacks of files and documents.
Eventually the solicitor looked up from the papers in front of him. ‘Well, Miss Bentham, you are indeed mentioned – I have here a note in Lord Frankland’s own hand assuring me of your good character and your dedication to his sister’s interests. He has made provision that, in the event of his or your brother’s death, Miss Nancy’s monthly allowance should be issued to your good self. Thankfully, we have had no notice of Lord Frankland’s death. Rather than wait for communication from his lordship, I think we can act on his behalf – after all, he has quite enough to be getting on with, fighting for dear old England.’
He signed a note to that effect and passed it to Alice, who took it gladly with shaking hands.
‘Give this to my secretary downstairs and she will see to it that the allowance is paid to you. You may also be interested to learn that Lord Frankland states that, in the event of your brother’s death, Miss Nancy, her baby and your good self are welcome to live in Whernside Manor. He must value your services highly, Miss Bentham.’
Conscious once more of coming under scrutiny from those penetrating eyes, Alice got to her feet. ‘Thank you, sir. Thank you for your help. You don’t know what a relief this is.’ She couldn’t believe it – they could live at the manor! She could have her old room back, and Mrs Dowbiggin and Faulks would be able to help with Nancy and the baby.
‘Thank you, Miss Bentham. Regards to your sister-in-law and her child.’ The solicitor busied himself with his paperwork, not even opening the door to show her out. After she had left his office, he sat back in his captain’s chair and stared at the door. A young slip of a thing – working class, too, from the sound of her – and he’d just handed her the keys to the best house in Dent, and a good monthly allowance to boot. Some people had all the luck.
‘Well, how did you get on?’ Jack was waiting outside the solicitor’s when Alice emerged.
Alice grinned. ‘Let’s just say I can afford to buy you a cup of tea and a cream cake at Simpson’s café, if you wish, kind sir?’ She gave a playful curtsy, happy with her good fortune.
‘Too right, lass – I’m blinking frozen. I’ll not say no to a warm-up, and then we’d best get back. Looks like rain’s going to set in and it’s nothing of a job sitting sodden on this buckboard for twelve miles.’
‘Right, take my arm if you wish, kind gentleman.’ Alice linked arms with Jack and they walked across the road to the tea shop, giggling all the way.
‘I have missed you, you know that, Alice, and I do still love you.’ Jack leaned across the table where they were now seated and took her hand.
Alice blushed. ‘Jack, we are in company – don’t be silly.’
‘I don’t care if the whole world knows it. You’ve always been the one for me, ever since we were little. I’m sorry I weren’t there when you needed me most. You promise me you’ll come to me if there’s anything you want.’ He squeezed her hand tightly.
‘I promise.’ Alice smiled. It was good to have him back in her life. ‘Come on, let’s go – it’ll be dark before we know it.’ She linked her arm through his again as they left the shop, making their way to the horse and trap.
‘Who’s put that there? Who’s dared to put that there?’ Jack was visibly upset as he pulled a white feather from the tied-up reins. ‘I’m no coward! I’d fight for my country if I really had to.’ He squashed the feather in his hand, disgusted at being branded a coward. He was doing his bit for the country by farming and making sure local shops were supplied. He glanced around the marketplace but no one met his eyes.
‘Hush now, Jack, they don’t know what you do. Whoever left it obviously watched us go into the café and assumed the worst. Forget it.’ Alice pulled on his arm as the crumpled feather was thrown down in the road. ‘Come on, it’s been a long day and I want to get home. Things were going so well; let’s not let a stupid feather spoil it.’
Jack spat in the street, then climbed onto the trap, pulling Alice up next to him. ‘Isn’t it enough I’ve lost my best friend, my boss is on the front fighting, and my father has made me go back farming? Mind, I’m not about to be made into cannon fodder, so perhaps a white feather is right.’
He whipped the team into action and drove them hard out of Kendal and across the wild moorland up to the Dent road. He was silent all the way, never looking at Alice, who felt that a good day had been ruined by a stupid, unthinking gesture by a total stranger. By the time they arrived at the manor it was pouring with rain and the grey clouds had come down the fellside, turning late afternoon as dark as night.
‘You’d be best stopping the night here, if you can. You don’t want to take the baby out in this weather – it’ll catc
h its death. I’ll come and take you all back up to Stone House in the morning.’ Jack barely glanced at Alice as she alighted from the trap.
Her clothes sodden, hair dripping down her face, Alice looked up at him. ‘Jack, please stop worrying about that blasted feather – it means nothing. You’re doing enough for the country without having your brains blown out.’ She shook her wet hair out of her eyes and gave him a smile. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, and thanks again for taking me – it’s been a good day.’
Alice watched Jack ride off, his hand waving to her as he turned the bend of the path and went out of sight. She stood leaning against one of the pillars of the grand porch for a while, just watching the rain pelting down. So Jack still loved her! It was a good feeling to have. Trouble was, it didn’t feel good enough. There wasn’t that flutter that she got when she talked to Gerald, but since he would never be hers, perhaps she had better set her cap at Jack. At least he was a safe option. Was he the right one? Oh, she just didn’t know! Her heart said one thing and her head another. With a sigh she turned and went into the manor.
‘Aye, lass, you’re soaking! Let’s have them wet clothes off and get you into fresh ones. There’s one of your old dresses still upstairs in the blue bedroom.’ Mrs Dowbiggin passed her a warm towel from out of the airing cupboard and escorted her upstairs.
Having tousled her hair dry and got out of her wet things, Alice felt much better. She put on the dress and pulled a woolly cardigan over it. ‘Where are Nancy and Baby Alice?’
‘Miss Nancy’s in her old room and the baby is asleep. Pretty as a picture, she is, the image of her mother.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Dowbiggin. Have they both been all right for you? Baby Alice can be a bit demanding and, well, you know how to cope with Nancy.’
‘Aye, well, I thought I knew how to cope with Nancy, but she’s terribly confused at the moment, doesn’t seem to want to settle to anything. I even read her a letter that we got from Gerald, but she wouldn’t sit and listen.’ Mrs Dowbiggin picked up Alice’s discarded clothes. ‘I’ll put these on the airing rack. They’ll be dry by the morning.’